Chapter 20
That kiss, though.
How am I supposed to run a bookshop when all I can think about is Rory MacGregor’s lips?
I have a business to keep afloat. Deadlines to meet.
As I brush my teeth, I gaze in the mirror.
And the support group? How am I supposed to wipe this manic grin from my face while I listen to people talk about their heartbreak and grief?
I can’t hide the damn thing. My cheeks are flushed.
I barely slept last night. Rory and I were on the phone until past midnight.
We even had a ‘you hang up’, ‘no, you hang up’ back-and-forth at the end of the conversation.
I haven’t felt this way in such a long time.
Since Seb.
Screw Seb.
I can’t think about him. I can’t let myself think about the last time this happened, because that ended in the worst possible way – in a pain so intense I had to move hundreds of miles away, back to the only place I’d ever truly felt at peace.
Comfortable. Happy. And now, the grumpiest, sexiest Scottish guy in the village has made everything much better – and more confusing.
I check my phone for the millionth time: 8.30 a.m.
He will be on his way to work next door to me right now. I bite my lip.
I skip, literally skip, down the stairs, grabbing my jacket to head across the street to Donna’s salon, where she’s just opening up.
‘Morning, my lovely,’ she calls. ‘You look like the cat who got the cream. Something to report?’
‘Oh, you know, just wanted to tell you I followed your advice and made up with Rory’ – I grin – ‘with a big fat snog!’
Donna’s mouth forms an enormous ‘O’ before spreading into a wide grin. ‘You did not!’
‘I did! But I’m only telling you. It’s a secret, okay? I don’t want every person getting their hair done today knowing about it, okay?’
‘Scout’s honour,’ she says. ‘Give me all the details.’ As I dish the dirt to Donna, I keep an eye out for his car.
My heart thumps in my chest.
‘Speaking of secrets… Anything you want to tell me?’
Donna sighs and begins to shuffle some papers on the till point. ‘You mean Finlay, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I mean Finlay. I’d forgotten he was your first love; you were infatuated with him when we were younger! He thinks you’re embarrassed by your recent rendezvous, though. Any truth to that?’
‘He thinks I’m embarrassed? He’s the one that can barely look me in the eye,’ she says. ‘He’s a sweetheart. It’s just, well, it isn’t meant to be. It took so long for us to be on normal terms again after we broke up all those years ago. I just can’t believe we’re back to square one.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘Oh look.’ She points across the road. ‘There’s your Roreo. Get it? Like, Romeo?’
I laugh, shaking my head at her attempt to distract me. ‘Right, I need to go and open the shop. But this subject is not closed!’
Rory is unpacking his car and I swing out of Donna’s salon to meet him.
That kiss, though.
‘Hey,’ he calls, as I stroll across the road.
‘Hey, yourself.’ I walk closer to him and whisper, ‘How am I supposed to work all day next door to you, knowing you kiss like that?’
His eyes hold my gaze. ‘Maybe we could catch up after the breakup bookshop tonight?’
‘I’d love that. Thanks again for your help getting the courtyard ready for my extra guests. And sorry we didn’t make it to the pub.’
‘My pleasure,’ he says. ‘My night finished on a high, so I can’t complain.’
‘Margaret’s lumpy carpet?’
He laughs. I stand at the front door of the bookshop, key in hand, while he does the same next door at The Toolbox.
‘How did you know?’
*
The Next Chapter support group spills out, as I’d hoped, into the courtyard at the back of the shop.
Given the popularity, people ask me whether we could hold two sessions a week, and, seeing no reason not to, I agree.
People arrive early and mill around, chatting to one another.
I sell a few books I’d recommended at the end of the last session. Eilidh will be pleased.
As Margaret arrives, I hear her tell Fiona that she’s been looking forward to the support group all week, which makes my heart happy.
Pete makes a beeline for Donna as soon as he crosses the bookshop’s threshold and they hug as though they haven’t seen each other in months.
New faces begin to filter in too, and I tick their names off the list. I introduce the guy who lost his job to the girl who’s given up drinking, and they chat easily.
Finlay turns up ‘to see what all the fuss has been about’.
He and Donna are quickly drawn into what looks to be another awkward exchange, but, watching them from a distance, I’m not sure either of them really minds.
While they giggle and stumble their way through conversation, they don’t take their eyes off each other.
Pete seems to get the vibe and gives them some space, wandering over to talk with Fiona and Margaret.
As the group starts, I welcome everyone along, explaining that we will follow a new format tonight.
‘We have a space outside for those who would prefer to have casual chats, and here, indoors, we’ll be having more in-depth discussions. We’re hoping that will suit everyone, especially as we have so many new faces. There’s no pressure for anyone to speak, but please do if you would like to.’
I remain in the bookshop with Margaret, Fiona, Donna and Eilidh, along with some new faces, while Pete and Finlay make a sharp exit to the courtyard with the other men.
A gender split isn’t the intention, but when Fiona starts to talk about how much being menopausal has affected her, and not in her usual joking terms, I’m glad if it allows her to speak more freely.
‘I was convinced someone stole my car last week from the Tesco car park. Convinced. I reported it to the security guard, was about to call the police, when he pointed out my car with the registration number I’d given him.
It hadn’t been stolen. I’d just forgotten I’d parked it somewhere different. The brain fog is a killer.’
‘Oh, yes, I remember it well,’ Margaret chimes in. ‘The anxiety too. I cried once because I couldn’t remember if my car took diesel or petrol. I stood there with a nozzle in my hand, completely paralysed with indecision. I had to call Bill to ask him what fuel to use. It’s a nightmare.’
‘I’m so glad you’re sharing your stories. It’s so important that we get to hear of your experiences,’ Donna says, with an intensity that surprises me. ‘Women’s health and wellbeing isn’t spoken about as much as it should be.’
The front door pushes open. Donna jumps up and rushes over to welcome the new arrival.
‘I’m Elle,’ the girl says, grinning around the room. ‘Hi Ava, welcome back.’
I almost fall off my chair. Elle. An older version of the stunning girl I’d been friends with as a child stands in front of me.
She shrugs off her beautiful double-breasted plum-coloured coat, revealing a sleeveless black and white waistcoat, a pair of black tailored trousers and trainers.
‘Trendy’, as my granny would have said. Elle takes a seat in between Donna and Fiona and sighs with a smile, looking around the circle.
‘I’m ba-ack!’ she grins.
Donna smiles at her friend. ‘Elle’s only here for one support group. We were just talking about how hard it is to be a woman, Elle. Care to join in?’
Elle grins, taking the book. ‘Aye, it’s shite, isn’t it?’
The group laughs.
‘What’s going on for you, Elle?’ Donna asks.
‘Well, first off, thanks for having me here. I love the idea of a breakup bookshop and the group, Ava. Genius. And this place looks amazing.’ Unlike Donna’s energetic, propulsive voice, Elle’s accent has the softness that I remember, a romantic Highland beauty.
‘I’m back home for a few weeks for a friend’s wedding.
I’m so happy for her, but it’s just made me think how behind I am, you know? ’
I hear you, sister.
‘All of my friends are getting married and having babies,’ she continues. ‘I’ve been so focused on my career that I haven’t got round to the serious stuff yet. It feels like I can suddenly hear the ticking timebomb that everyone talks about, you know?’
I nod. Elle is a kindred spirit, feeling like a failure, even though I bet she’s achieved so much in her career already.
‘And then right before this, I bump into my ex here. And I realize how simple it could have been if only I’d stayed, you know?’
Oh shit. No, I don’t know. Well, I don’t want to know. Abort mission. I can’t listen to this. I don’t want to know that she wants Rory back. I want to cover my ears and sing myself a happy song to block this out, but I can hardly do that.
‘And what does your ex think?’ Fiona asks.
‘Oh,’ she blushes.
Leaning forward to hear her answer, I almost fall off my chair. Oh? What does ‘oh’ mean?
‘Well, we were first loves, I suppose. Everyone always said he’d have me back in a heartbeat,’ she reveals. ‘I’m not too sure about that, to be honest. I guess you never really know. He’s going to the same wedding, though. I thought I could tell him how I feel while we’re there?’
Fiona nods. ‘You have to! No regrets. If you feel something for someone, tell them now. Life is too damn short.’
Noooo, Fiona! That’s terrible advice. Well, not for you, but for Elle!
But everyone in the circle nods in agreement.
‘Definitely too short,’ Margaret adds.
‘What if he feels the same way and is afraid to tell you?’ someone else chimes in.
Christ. I nod along, pretending I don’t know she is talking about Rory. I shoot an anxious look over at Donna, but she doesn’t even look like she’s listening.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s not Rory. Perhaps Elle has a string of exes to choose from. He hasn’t mentioned anything about a wedding. He’d struggle to get cover for The Toolbox, wouldn’t he? I exhale. This might just be okay. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions.
‘So, you think I should say something?’ she presses, looking around the circle.
Everyone nods. I find myself following suit; I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.
‘Why did you break up?’ Eilidh asks.
‘I was offered a job in Edinburgh. He couldn’t come with me. We tried long distance for a while, but it just fizzled out.’
‘What have you got to lose?’ Fiona asks brightly. ‘A wedding is the best place to rekindle a romance. Love in the air and all that. Gosh, you need to keep us posted. We’re invested now.’
‘Oh yes! You never know, it could be us coming to your wedding next,’ Margaret adds.
‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ Elle smiles. ‘I can’t promise it’ll end in wedding bells, but I guess you never know.’
‘How exciting,’ Margaret breathes, grinning from ear to ear.
Is it, Margaret? I’m not so sure.